Things to Know about the Romans
by Lightning Eyed
Summary: The Roman demigods are commonly mistaken for proper, refined people, but that's on the very false side of false. This consists of moments taking place at camp Jupiter between the end of the Titan War and the disappearance of Praetor Jason Grace. There will be some language, so the courtesy was taken to rate this T. Not suggested for those without a sense of humor.
1. The Romans are fun loving people

**Romans are fun-loving people. (Megan writes a disclaimer and an intro)**

* * *

Dear readers,

Sure, you have all officially decided because of the writings of a certain middle-aged man from Texas (which, by the way, I do not own in any way, shape, or form) that the Roman campers are obedient, refined, and warlike. Yes, that's true, but the 'Good Romans' mask we put on is just barely big enough to hide the antics underneath. What you are about to read is a series of random moments and memories that happened at Camp Jupiter. There will be no highly graphic content, no mushy love stories, and no utterly Mary-Sue characters. This is the legionnaire's account of what the camp is like underneath the 'warrior' masks.

It will be advised that some of these things will be completely and utterly random, stretching from a few days after the Titan War gets out to the time the praetor disappears in chronological order. A few Greeks or mortals may not understand our traditions, i.e. armpit noises in the marching band or settling disputes in unusual ways. Most of all, if any caring person out there has an amazing memory of a random thing happening at Camp Jupiter, I will take suggestions.

Each entry will be preceded by at least one entry from the Legionnaire's Handbook for the 21st Century, the Camp Jupiter Almanacs from 2010 or 2011, Terminus's Big Huge Encyclopedia of Rules and Conduct, or another reliable source that will better explain the moment.

Sincerely,  
Megan Harper  
3rd Cohort  
~SPQR~


	2. Presenting the colors is an honor

**Presenting the colors is an honor! (Octavian guarantees his spot as resident jackass)**

* * *

_**Time and Place: Late August 2010, preparing for a feast to celebrate the victory of the Titan War. The legion's colorguard is practicing on the inspection pad in front of their barracks.**_

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_The Camp Jupiter colorguard is made up of eight people. One person bears each cohort's flag, two guard the eagle, and one bears the eagle. The colorguard must work as not just a team, but as a body. They should understand each other's movements and intentions, and above all appear poised, professional, and completely and utterly Roman.  
~The Legionnaire's Handbook for the 21__st__ Century: The Colorguard's Creed_

_The Legion's eagle-bearer is Jacob Hannigan. The eagle-guards are Andrew Sedran on spear guard and Anne DeVries on torch guard. Octavian Imperata represents the First Cohort; Alyssa Whitney, the Second; Megan Harper, the Third; Denise Martinez, the Fourth; and Gwendolyn Aurum, the Fifth.  
~Camp Jupiter Almanac 2010: People of Interest_

* * *

"Jacob! Keep that standard in the air! You must be proud of your position, even if the eagle isn't there!" commanded Octavian. "Denise, straight arms! Megan, your angle is off! Gwendolyn, that flag must point straight up! And- Good gods, Andrew, your shoulders look like a unicorn sat on them! Square them up!"

"Centurion," Megan addressed him, "before you criticize us, you should watch your own posture at right shoulder!"

"I don't have time for criticism from Third Cohort scum," he muttered under his breath, then returned to his spot and realized that his grip was off- just a little.

"Octavian," Reyna called from her wooden patio chair, "I don't really care that you come from the most distinguished family of Roman demigods currently at this camp, but when one insults the praetor's own cohort, there is need for punishment. Call Miss Harper scum again and we will see just how much unicorn crap you can clean up."

"Understood, Praetor Canina," he grumbled.

Jason twisted his lip from his own chair. "Anne, if you hold the torch there you'll never be able to defend the eagle with it. A little higher."

"Understood, Praetor Grace."

Andrew cursed as he nearly dropped his _pilum._ Octavian glared at him. "Andrew, _language._ Defending the eagle is a privilege. Common men from the taverns would not be suited to fight in the Roman army, much less represent the Imperial Legion in their colorguard. Therefore, you cannot use the language of a common man from the taverns in the colorguard."

Andrew, who was in essentiality Octavian's greatest rival, flipped him the bird as soon as his back was turned.

"I'm choosing Andrew if we ever have to nominate a new praetor again," Gwen said with a smile, holding the Fifth Cohort's banner a little higher.

"That's the way to go," Megan whispered.

"Andrew is boss," Denise agreed.

Alyssa representative of the Second Cohort and Anne the torch-bearer remained silent but both cracked smiles.

Octavian probably didn't hear them, otherwise he would have thrown his spear-topped, vibrant purple First Cohort standard at them. Gwen wouldn't put it past him to stab a fellow legionnaire.

"Can we please shut up and get back to practicing?" Jacob asked. He was probably the only serious person in the colorguard—when he wasn't playing Wizard101 or Skyrim.

Alyssa rolled her eyes. "It's not our fault that Octavian has an aptitude to act like the Emperor."

"Well, his last name _is_ Imperata*," Denise pointed out.

Jason snorted upon hearing Denise's comment, eliciting a glare from both his coworker Reyna and Octavian, who did not like to be laughed at. Jason narrowed his electric-blue eyes at the augur and sipped his iced tea, continuing to watch the colorguard to ensure their perfection at the feast tomorrow. After all, he wasn't nicknamed "Eagle Eyes" for nothing. Reyna had given that nickname before he'd become praetor; when the old praetor, Matthew, had complimented his eye for detail.

Vitellius the ghost stepped in front of Octavian and frowned at him. "The lady's right, your posture is off."

Octavian finally broke his concentration, turned bright red, and tried to stab the ghostly warrior with his flag, failing ridiculously but nicking Anne on the back of her armor.

"That's it," Reyna said. "Centurion Imperata, you're on stable duty, and you will be once a week until you learn to control your anger."

Reyna's comment didn't help Octavian's anger as he threw his flag, which Alyssa caught before it hit the ground and handed to Reyna, who tried not to touch the handprints Octavian had left on the pole.

*Imperata is derived from 'imperator' which is Latin for emperor.


	3. Thumb wars can settle nearly any dispute

**Thumb wars can settle near any problem (Reyna should be the official goddess of thumb warfare)**

_**Time and Place: Late August 2010, evening muster before the victory feast. The legion is on the inspection pad getting inspected. Duh.**_

_Any form of settling disputes that is civilized, unarmed, completed by humans, and does not involve destroying my city is acceptable.  
~Terminus's Big Huge Encyclopedia of Rules and Conduct_

"Hazel?" Reyna said, staring the daughter of Pluto in the eye.

"Yes, Praetor Canina?"

"Your armor's on backwards. Jason, come over here and help me think of a punishment. I ran out of good ones yesterday when Serena disrespected her centurion in Latin class."

"Aw, Rey. Hazel's my friend. Can't you let her off just once?"

"You're not a legionnaire anymore," Reyna snapped. "There's one way to settle this. And that is to punish Hazel."

Jason pouted. "Can't we come up with another?"

Reyna turned to the crowd. "Suggestions, anyone?"

Andrew and Megan glanced at each other, at their cohort, then at Hazel, and screamed "THUMB WAAAAAAAAR!" in perfect unison.

Reyna grinned evilly. "Jason, we shall have a thumb war. If you win, Hazel gets off. However, I have just thought of the most wonderful punishment. If I win, Hazel has to suffer through standing in the middle of the street with my dogs while everyone else in camp yells lies from on top of buildings."

Jason was about to remark that it wouldn't be so hard for Hazel as the dogs were made of precious metals, but Reyna didn't know about her crazy secret powers yet, but he kept his mouth shut and held his hand up for the thumb war.

The two of them were engaged in official thumb battle for about five minutes before either got a grip on the other. Jason was playing Mr. Evasive style and Reyna was playing Vicious Wrestler style. However, Jason had Reyna's thumb pinned first. She squirmed out in a matter of seconds.

About a minute later, Reyna had won the thumb war. Jason huffed and returned to inspecting, and he quietly whispered, "Have fun," to Hazel as he passed her.

"You bet I'll have some fun," Hazel replied to him.


	4. Disrupting the praetor is a bad idea

**Dumping Snow-Cones on the praetor is a bad idea. (Dakota causes a disruption at the victory feast)**

_**Time and Place: Late August 2010, having fun at the feast to celebrate the victory of the Titan War.**_

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_The Praetor is the highest figure in today's Roman command that is not a god. One should not disrupt the Praetor's important business, dishonor or disrespect the Praetor in any way. _

_~The Legionnaire's Handbook for the 21__st__ Century: excerpt from Importance of the Praetor_

* * *

"I hate feasts," Reyna said. "One war will always follow another; we should be training, and not sitting around having parties. Do you know how many minor mythological conflicts have grown into full-blown wars, Jason?"

Jason sat straight up in his chair. "The rebellion of the early mortals, the Titanomachy, the Giant War-"

"Don't list them," Reyna said. "I know you know there's a lot."

"Who've we assigned to babysit Dakota tonight?"

"Nobody would do it," Reyna sighed. "The duty falls to us again. I even bribed Octavian with a giant bag of stuffed ducks, but he said no. You'd think the _ducks _would have done it. He has a love-hate relationship with ducks and it's creepy."

Jason stifled a laugh, then immediately shut up. "We have to watch my hyper best friend again? I liked it better when Matthew had to reel him in."

"But Matthew's dead now," Reyna said, "and you're the male praetor, so you get the job."

Jason sighed, then dismounted his throne. "I kind of want to go and get a snow-cone. Wanna come?"

Reyna managed to force a smile through her annoyed/disgusted expression. "I suppose I haven't had a snow-cone since Circe's island. All right, but if anything happens it's your fault."

Jason was already halfway to the snow-cone machine by the time Reyna caught up with him, as she was terrible at moving through crowds.

"Could you maybe wait for two seconds?" she asked, out of breath and irritated.

"I'm not good at waiting," Jason informed her before darting into the crowd again. This time, when Reyna caught up to him again, he had already scooped a coneful of crushed ice and was drizzling lime syrup on it. Dakota, whom either Jason had managed to snag from the crowd or who had just decided to show back up again, was behind him with a Snow-Cone full of so much cherry syrup it looked like it was going to either fall off the paper cone or just explode. Reyna was wary as she scooped her own Snow-Cone and added just enough grape syrup so that it wouldn't be flavorless at the top, but it wouldn't be a melty, sticky mess at the bottom.

She had just turned around to go back to the praetor's table and leave Jason to look after Dakota when the Fifth Cohort centurion was bumped into by Octavian (probably on purpose) and sloshed a bit of his Snow-Cone on Jason's purple cape. Reyna spun on her heels to catch Octavian mutter an insincere apology, Jason dust the flavored snow off his cape, and Dakota break into uncontrollable laughter.

Then he turned and purposely dumped the rest of his Snow-Cone on Reyna's head.

Reyna, who had almost seen it coming, was enraged, and stormed back to her table, but what Dakota had started wouldn't be finished for a long time, and this became clear to Reyna as one of her old friends from the Third Cohort raised two multicolored cones, yelled "Third for the win!" and threw them at the Fifth Cohort's tables, where they splatted into Gwen and a girl named Altaire, respectively. And as Snow-Cones began to fly left and right, Reyna decided it was a futile effort to try and stop the sugary ruckus, just as long as no one dumped another cone on her.

She sat at her table, wanting to cover herself with her shield and join into the Snow-Cone war, but at the same time not wanting to appear immature or cowardly.

She didn't notice the First Cohort attack squad sneaking up directly behind her: Octavian; the junior centurion, Becca; the legion's eagle-bearer, Jacob; and Jacob's sister, Whitney; all laden with as many Snow-Cones as they could possibly carry. So naturally, she didn't flinch as the four of them sloughed her in a rainbow mess of sugar and snow.

Then, looking like the Abominable Snowman in a fit of rage, she stormed off to the toga shop to get her cape dry-cleaned before stomping back home and jumping in the shower with all her clothes still on.

Jason also looked like the Abominable Snowman, but he didn't really care at that moment. He was too busy shooting Snow-Cone syrup at the entirety of the Fourth Cohort.


End file.
